Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Canada and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Bill Near to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Yusef Lateef. All the underground hits.
All The Leaves tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
Spandau Ballet,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cybotron,
Royal Trux,
Can,
The Standells,
Shoche,
Jacques Brel,
Livin' Joy,
Shuggie Otis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Deadbeat,
Fela Kuti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Young Marble Giants,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Eric Dolphy,
Wings,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Goldenarms,
The Mummies,
Eddi Front,
D'Angelo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Blues Magoos,
Agitation Free,
Boz Scaggs,
The American Breed,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Excepter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Monolake,
Marshall Jefferson,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Walker Brothers,
Tommy Roe,
X-102,
Charles Mingus,
Whodini,
The Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Idris Muhammad,
Fad Gadget,
Minny Pops,
Warren Ellis,
Franke,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mark Hollis,
Buzzcocks,
Pere Ubu,
Arcadia,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.